The Psychic's Sister
by shulesluvvah
Summary: Being Head Detective at SBPD was hard enough for Rebecca without her irresponsible brother wondering around pretending to be a psychic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n- So I've had this idea for a while now. I think this isn't the best I could have written (I feel like I'm really struggling with my English right now..), but let me know what you think and if I should continue or not. **

**I'm not going to lie, this chapter is kind of dull. It's just introducing/setting up the plotline.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PSYCH**

-Chapter One-

I sigh and lean against the wall of the elevator. My day was draining to say the least. We had a burglary that we couldn't solve, and my partner put all the work on me. It was exhausting. This whole job is exhausting, but I don't complain. Especially under the circumstances that I was given the job as Head Detective with the Santa Barbara Police Department. No matter how hard the work is, I'm happy. I'm living out my childhood dream. I'm making my dad proud too, so that's another plus.

I barely have time to collect my thoughts before the doors opened. I reluctantly push myself away from the wall and walk towards my apartment. I can't wait to get a mug of green tea, sit on my couch, and just relax. _Maybe if I'm lucky there will be a Mentalist marathon on! _That thought instantly puts a smile.

I quickly try to open my door, but there's a slight resistance. I give the door another small push and then squeeze through the crack. I look down to see what was jamming the door. At first I'm annoyed when I see my older brother Shawn's shoes laying there. The annoyance quickly turns to anger when I see a pair of heels that definitely aren't mine. They're about five inches taller than I could ever walk in.

"Shawn," I yell as I quickly walk down the short hallway leading to the living area. I gasp when I see the scene in front of me: Shawn being straddled by some unknown girl on my sofa! I look away in embarrassment.

"Who is she," the girl asks Shawn in shock. I lied. I do know her. She's a waitress at a restaurant my partner and I occasionally go to on our lunch break. _Not anymore,_ I think as I wait for Shawn to answer.

"She's… ah… my sister. Rebecca! Hi Becca! H-how was your day?"

"Your sister," she says in embarrassment before I can answer. I look to see them both standing. _Thank God._

"Yes, I am. I'm also a cop," I say crossing my arms. Realisation hits her face. She recognises me but doesn't make any move to leave. "And this is also my apartment." She still stands her ground. "I carry a gun."

"Oh! I'm… I'm sorry, Detective." I roll my eyes and nod once before giving Shawn a look. The look. The look that says 'you're dead if this girl isn't gone by the time I get back.' I throw my keys on the side table and head back towards my bedroom. I softly chuckle as I hear them arguing as Shawn asks the girl to leave.

I kick off my heels and take my hair out of its tight bun. I replace my pantsuit with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. My favourite part of the day. I leave my room and head towards the kitchen to find Shawn leaning against the counter holding a carton of pineapple juice. I reach for two plastic juice cups and grab the juice off of him right before he tries to drink straight out of the carton.

"Sorry about kicking your girlfriend out," I say handing him the cup. When he came to stay with me I told him there was two rules: he had to pick up after himself and no girls in my apartment.

"First of all, she wasn't my girlfriend." He takes a long gulp out of his cup. "Second of all, she wasn't that great of a kisser so-"

"Shawn!" I put my hand up to stop him. "TMI!" We both laugh. My laughter is cut short when he sits on the countertop. "Get off the counter!" He laughs without moving. "When are you getting a job anyways," I ask in complete seriousness. "You said that you needed a place to stay for like a week or two until you found a job. That was over a month ago."

"You sound like Dad," he says avoiding the question. Avoiding responsibility like he always does. I cross my arms waiting for a response. He perks up. "I do have a job, contrary to what you may think. Which reminds me…" I raise my eyebrow as he picks up the phone.

"Who are you calling?" He puts a finger in the air and mouths _wait for iiiiiit._

"Hello?" There's a short pause. I can hear the voice of a woman on the other line, but I can't make out what she is saying. "Uh, it's the store manager. He did it." Another pause. "The stereo robberies at the Visions chain store." He hops off the counter and looks at the TV. Joe, the owner of the store whose burglary I'm investigating, is being interviewed. He looks even more nervous on TV than he did when I interviewed him. "He's on Channel 8 news right now." He pauses again. I'm starting to piece things together. "Uh, his hands. Nervous tic-dead giveaway. And he won't look at the reporter in the eyes." I can't believe it! "My name? My name is Shawn Spencer." I close my eyes in disbelief. "No. That's gonna do it! Actually, the tags on the news van have expired, but that's completely unrelated."

I open my eyes and look at him when he hangs up. "So you're the bastard who keeps calling in the tips and solving our cases!" He smiles.

"Yep! That's me!" He picks up my juice and downs it in one gulp. I would have been mad, but I'm impressed with what he just did. Solving the case, I mean.

"You solved that case that I've been working on for the last eternity _just_ _by watching the news_?!"

"Mhm. It really wasn't that hard. I solved it while making out with Amy too."

"You owe me a new couch, by the way."

"You seemed stressed. Are you stressed?" Of course he was just saying that to change the subject, but I am stressed.

"I am actually." He gives me a fake sympathetic look before pouring me more juice and handing it to me. "Lassiter is giving me all the case work just so he can 'work' with Junior Detective Barry. I'm pretty sure it's either because he thinks I'm unqualified to work beside him or he's sleeping with her."

"Probably the latter," he says after a moment of thought. "You're more than qualified to work alongside him. You know that." He's right.

Two years ago when they looking for a Junior Detective, I took the exam. I was only 22; fresh out of UCSB with a criminology degree. Because I graduated top of my class and because of who my father is, I was offered to take the Detective's Exam without any prior police experience. I had the highest score the department had ever. I even scored .57% higher than my own dad. Because of this, the chief, mayor, DA, or whoever else was in charge of hiring decided that it wasn't fair to assign me as Junior Detective with a score like that. So what did they do? They hired Officer Lucinda Barry as Junior Detective and put me as co-Head Detective next to Lassiter. I didn't think having two Head Detectives and a Junior Detective would work out, but somehow it did. Lassiter and I each work together on cases. Barry technically works with the other detectives, only assisting us occasionally. Well, it was supposed to be that way, but Lassiter recently started insisting that she helped us on almost every single case.

"Yeah, you're right."

"I always am!"

"That's not true!"

"It is too and you know it!" I roll my eyes and drop the matter. Shawn might be five years older than me, but I'm at least ten years more mature than him.

"Well, unlike some people, I have a real job that requires sleep." I put my cup in the sink and go to walk past him, but he holds his arms out for a hug. I smile, walk into him, and wrap my arms around his torso. As annoying as his mooching is, I'm glad to have him back in Santa Barbara after his extended absence. He won't let me out of his hug, so I decide to give him a little lecture. "Seriously though. Please go out get yourself a real job. If I wanted to provide for someone other than myself, I'd be married with kids."

"You'd be married by now if you'd quit saying 'I'm Detective Rebecca Spencer and I carry a gun.'" He's kidding, but I laugh because it was partially true.

"Shut up," I say pulling away from him. "If you're done ridiculing me, I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Sunshine," he calls after me as I started back to my room.

"Goodnight!"

**Okay, so as you can see, I following the plotline of the pilot and putting in one Detective Rebecca Spencer. And before anyone says it, I know, I know. I'm being**_** so**_** unoriginal. But I like writing like this, so please, no hate comments. If you don't like it, don't read it. **

**But if you **_**did**_** enjoy this, then please, review and come back for some more!**


	2. Chapter 2

-Chapter Two-

When I arrive at the station, the first thing I notice is that Lassiter and Barry aren't here. I barely have time to punch in before Interim Chief Karen Vick calls me. "Detective Spencer, can I speak with you for a moment?" I already know today is going to be eventful. I hurry and finish what I'm doing before going directly into her office.

"Good morning, Chief," I say cheerfully.

"Good morning, Detective. I just wanted to give you a new case to start working on."

"But what about my other case," I say. I act as if I know nothing about the tip Shawn had called in.

"Taken care of. There was a tip called in last night that said the owner was behind all of it. Lassiter was still here, so he looked into it. Mr. Wilberman broke down and confessed the second Lassiter and Barry got out of the car." Of course Barry was with him. "Anyways, here is the case." She hands me the case file and I take a second to flip through it. "Let me know if you find any leads."

"Yes Ma'am," I say excitingly as I walk out of her office. I have a kidnapping! Usually my cases were homicides with occasional robberies. The only time I'd ever get a kidnapping is if it had stumped another detective.

I sit down at my desk to find a typed note stuck to my computer monitor. I instantly know who it was from. Only one person in the department would type a quick note instead of writing it out. Lassiter.

_Got a break in the case. Wilberman had a partner. Think it was the tipster. Interrogating now. Paperwork's on me._

There's good news bad news and even worse news about this. Good news: I don't have to do the never ending paper work for the case. Bad news: after all the schooling Lassiter went through, he still doesn't know how to form proper sentences. Even worse news: my brother is now the prime suspect in a crime that he had nothing to do with.

I slide my chair and quickly make my way to the interrogation rooms. I'm glad I passed on the heels and went with flats today because I'm practically running through the department. When I make it to the interrogation rooms, I look in the window. Sure enough, there Shawn sits. I can tell he's irritated and a little confused. I go to flip a switch allowing me to hear what was going on, but a voice stops me.

"Excuse me," Officer McNab says walking towards me. "I'm sorry Detective, but Detective Lassiter said that he didn't want anyone bothering them while they were talking to their guy."

"This is more my case than it is Lassiter's," I say with annoyance. I quickly catch myself and change my tone of voice. "And besides, that's my brother in there so-"

"Wait, that's your brother?!" I nod and go to flip the switch, but I'm interrupted again. "I didn't know you had a brother!"

"I don't talk about him much."

"Is it because he's a radio thief."

"No, McNab. He's not a radio thief." I quickly move past him and enter the interrogation room. The three people inside of it look at me.

"Spencer," Lassiter starts. "What are you doing here? I told you I had this all taken care of."

"And then I saw your suspect-" I make quotation marks in the air with my fingers "-is Shawn."

"You two know each other," Barry asks.

"Yes. We're related. He's my brother."

"Your brother," she says with disbelief. Shawn and I share a look. Besides the fact that we are years apart and obviously different genders, we look a lot alike. We both have the same hazel/green eyes. My long brown, hair is the same shade as his usual messy do. We have a lot of the same features. I just thank God I don't have the same nose. But out of all our similarities, the one that's _most striking_ is our last name. And the fact that we have the same father. And mother. If they had really looked at Shawn record, then she should have been able to put two and two together.

"And you call yourself a detective." I regret saying that as soon as the words leave my mouth, but there's nothing I can do to take them back. I walk towards the table and look at Lassiter. "He didn't do it. He's a good guy, and I'm not just saying that." Lassiter and I are partners. No matter how often we get under each other's skin, we trust each other. But I can tell he isn't buying it. I turn to Shawn. "Come on, Shawn. You can go." Shawn gets up to leave, but…

"Not so fast," Lassiter says. "He's not as good as you make him out to be. He has a criminal record."

"I was eighteen," Shawn says. I can tell he knows that he is in a deep hole that he can't get out of.

"Oh. Eighteen? Well, that makes it okay. Let me just scratch it out."

"I borrowed a car."

"You stole a car." I try my hardest to push that memory away. It was easily one of the scariest moments of my life when Shawn came home after spending the night in prison. He and my dad fought a lot, but nothing came close to what it was like then. I was convinced one of them was going to kill the other. Eventually it had cooled down; but four weeks later, after his graduation, Shawn was gone.

"To impress a girl."

'Look," Barry said crossing her leg. "Forgive us, Mr. Spencer, if this seems far-fetched."

"Would it help at all if I told you that she had a bit of a reputation and I was 0 for… high school?" Silence washes over the room. Well, silence apart was Lassiter's gum chewing. "Okay, fine. There were extenuating circumstances. The arresting officer was my father. He was trying to teach me a lesson."

"Did you learn it," Lassiter asks. There is almost silence again as Shawn looks up at my partner. He waits a moment before answering.

"I learned I hated my father. So sure."

"Shawn," I shout in disbelief. As the three of them look at me, I realise that my outburst was a lot louder than it was in my head. I blush but ignored as Lassiter speaks again.

"Pardon me if I'm just a little skeptical. Believable as it is that you solved all these crimes while watching the local Channel 8 news reports."

"I confess," Shawn says, throwing his hands into the air. "That's not true. Sometimes I watch Channel 5. I prefer Channel 8. The weather girl: adorable."

"So you're telling us that you can read guilt off of TV interviews?"

"Can't you?"

"Don't you try and trivialize police work," Lassiter warns through gritted teeth.

"I think you're doing a bang-up job of that all by yourself." Lassiter shoots up out of his chair faster than I thought was possible. I quickly put a hand on his shoulder before he can fly across the table and strangle Shawn.

"Carlton," I said firmly. "He. Did not. Do it."

"No, Rebecca. You don't have to stick up for me," Shawn says standing up. "You can't keep me here, guys. I know my rights." I make no move to stop him as he made his way to the door.

"Good," Lassiter said without moving. "Then you know you have the right to remain silent." The fact the Lassiter is practically arresting him doesn't faze Shawn at all. He whips open the door to find McNab standing there. "You have the right to an attorney." Shawn sighs and turns around to face us. "If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you." Shawn laughs for a moment.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're serious?" Lassiter and Barry get up and stand on either side of me.

"A few hours in a holding cell might jog your memory." Shawn nervously looks towards the holding cells and then back to me. I want to do something to stop all of this madness, but I feel defenseless being at least a head shorter than the second shortest person in the room.

"Just give us a reason, Mr. Spencer," Barry pleads. "That's all we need. How did you get this information?"

"No," Lassiter cuts in. "It is too late for that! Officer Allen, book him."

"Book him," Shawn says in confusion. Officer Allen from the front desk takes Shawn by the wrist. "Oh, come on. Cuffs," he asks when she goes to pull out her hand cuffs. "What, for the walk back to the lobby?"

"Or you could give us a plausible explanation," Barry offers.

"I," Shawn sighs before looking behind him. It takes him a few seconds, but finally he looks back at us. I can see that he came up with some sort of plan. I don't like it already. "Okay! Okay. Fine. You win. I got the information because…" We all wait intently. Well, everyone but me. I wait in fear of what Shawn is going to get himself into. "I am a psychic." Officer Allen drops her hand cuffs in shock as I burry my hands in my face.

"Get him out of here," Carlton growls right before Shawn slams himself against the door.

"Oh, boy," he yells before looking down at Allen. "Your grandma would be so proud." Allen slowly stands up and looks at him in shook.

"You… you spoke to her?"

"I did," Shawn confirms as he takes a few steps closer to her. Lassiter laughs and shakes his head before looking down at me. I give him a blank look before looking back to Shawn. "She's… safe, comfortable." Barry and Lassiter share a look this time. "She wants you to stop spending all your money on those charlatans." Allen shakes her head in understanding.

"The palm readers."

"Okay, just to be clear, um, you're claiming to be a psychic, Mr. Spencer," Barry ratifies as Shawn slowly turns around while looking at his hands. He puts his hand out towards the two detectives at my side.

"How else would I know that you two are sleeping together?" Lassiter instantly stops chewing his gum. Barry looks at Lassiter as Allen and McNab share a look. I put my head back in my hands and try to shake away the mental pictures. "One, two, three. One, two, three." Shawn turns back around and acts as if he's directing some kind of orchestra. "One, two three." His fingers point in McNab's direction. "When's the wedding?"

"May 3rd," McNab said gleefully. "Wait. How'd you know?" Because he saw the 'Save the Date' card on my fridge at home.

"I'm getting dance lessons for a wedding reception. And you are getting good." Allen and McNab both laugh.

"Wow. That's amazing."

"Oh, come on. Who's buying this," Lassiter shouts with annoyance. The two officers shamelessly raise their hands with a few people who are in the holding cells. Just for Shawn's benefit, shyly raise my hand. "Oh, put your hand down!" He pushes my hand down, but I push his back. It almost turns into a slapping fight, but Shawn's outburst is more important than our own childish behaviour.

"I got it! Go to detention room number two. Shake down your vandal. You'll find all the evidence you need…" His foot starts moving uncontrollably. We all look at each other again until he stops. Shawn takes a step closer to me and speaks. "All the evidence is in his left shoe." Barry rolls her eyes as Carlton scoffs.

"Cuff him. Now!"  
"Wait," I say as I step in between Lassiter and Shawn. "Give me three minutes and I'll go check it out. If he's wrong, I'll personally book him." I really hope Shawn's right. I quickly walk down to the other set of rooms and walk back with the evidence to let Shawn go in my hand. It only takes me two minutes and twenty-one seconds.

"What is this," Carlton asks me when I hand him shards of red glass in a tissue."

"The man in detention room two was arrested for vandalizing a car. This was in his shoe."

"His left one?"

"Yes." Lassiter just stares at his hand in utter shock and frustration.

"Do I get paid now or what," Shawn asks no one in particular.

"Yes, Mr. Spencer. You can get paid," Barry says shaking her head. After Allen takes Shawn to the front desk, Lassiter finally looks up from his hand.

"Spencer, escort him of the premises. I don't want him interfering with our police work again." There are so many things that I want to say to him. Like "this isn't _your_ department" or "you can't tell me what to do," but I quietly walk towards the front of the station. I'm too shocked and angry with Shawn to retort.


End file.
